Something to Fight For
by Trick7
Summary: Jillian Sawyer was a no-name scavver in the Wasteland until she was found by Paladin Danse and the Brotherhood of Steel. Now an Initiate, she has to decide what is truly worth fighting for, and whether or not the Brotherhood falls into that category. (Slow-burn romance, T for graphic descriptions, language, and other content.)
1. Chapter 1

The ruined city of Boston lay sprawled across the ground far below as Jillian Sawyer teetered on a fallen support beam that connected two crumbling skyscrapers. She threw out her arms, using them to aid her balance as she turned to look over her shoulder, fighting against the howling wind. "This is the only way in, I'm sure of it!"

Behind her, she heard a groan of annoyance. "Very well. Come back so we can plan this out."

Sawyer shook her head, the motion almost sending her tumbling off the narrow beam. "No can do, Paladin. This is kind of a one way trip."

"I can't get across this in my power armor," replied Danse, her superior officer and reluctant companion on this foray into the broken city.

"I know," she said, and turned around to shoot him a little smirk. "I told you it would be pointless to wear it. Now I finally get to see you out of that stuff. I'm still convinced you're part supermutant underneath that suit."

"What?!"

Sawyer smirked again and inched forward a few more steps. She knew that little comment would upset Danse. He hated supermutants with a passion, even more so than the other members of the Brotherhood she'd met.

"That is not a joking matter!" he snapped. Sawyer rolled her eyes, making sure he couldn't see her. Danse continued, "This power armor had better still be here when we return." The sound of clanking metal was barely audible over the wind in her ears, but Sawyer definitely felt it when Danse stepped out onto the beam. "I don't like this," he muttered. "A fall in power armor would be harmless, but this…"

"How do you think I feel? I don't even have my own suit yet." Sawyer stepped again. The beam shifted very slightly, but it made her freeze in place all the same.

"Initiates don't get power armor. I've told you that."

"I know, I know. I'm just antsy about it." When she was confident that the beam would no longer move, Sawyer shuffled forward again. She was almost there. Just a few more feet. One… two… three more steps and she reached the jagged opening in the side of the building. She slipped inside, her orange uniform snagging on the sharp, twisted metal. She looked down at the blood that welled up beneath the tear, sighing. She was more upset about ripping the uniform than hurting herself. She only had the one outfit on her. The rest of her belongings were back in Cambridge at the police station where their meager little band of Brotherhood soldiers had set up their outpost.

Back at the station, Haylen and Rhys were no doubt relaxing for a day while she and Danse hunted down some important piece of technology. Sawyer wasn't a hundred percent sure what it was, but it had something to do with their radio. At least, that's what she remembered Scribe Haylen saying amidst all of the technical jargon.

Sawyer turned around to see Paladin Danse frozen in place halfway across the beam, glancing down at the ground many feet below. "You okay, Paladin?" she asked. It wasn't like Danse to be fearful.

"The beam," he said, meeting her gaze. "It moved."

"Yeah, it did that when I was on it too."

"No, it moved _a lot._"

Sawyer opened her mouth to reply when the groan of metal moving sounded. For the first time since she had known him, Sawyer saw panic on Danse's face as the beam jolted downwards at least a foot. "Danse!" she cried, throwing military decorum out the window when she forgot his title.

Somehow, Danse managed to maintain his footing, but the ominous creaking might as well have been the beep of a landmine for all the time he had. "Jump!" Sawyer shouted, holding out her arms. Even as he leapt for her, she knew she couldn't catch him. He was taller and heavier than her by far, but that didn't stop her from trying.

Danse's lunge was short by mere inches. He made a noise halfway between a groan and a snarl as he caught the rough edges of the gap in the wall with the tips of his fingers. Sawyer dropped to her knees immediately, grasping his wrists and heaving upwards as hard as she could. Her strength wasn't much, but it was enough. Danse locked his hand around her wrist, pulling himself up and over the edge of the building.

He lay on his back for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling and panting. Finally, he sat up, just as the beam outside creaked again and fell. It crashed against both buildings, the great bangs echoing in Sawyer's ears. She swallowed. That easily could have happened with both of them standing on it. She turned to Danse, trying not to think about it. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Deep brown eyes met hers and she recoiled slightly at the look on his face. "I thought you had scouted this area!" he snapped. He raised a hand, and for a fleeting moment, Sawyer was sure he would strike her, but he was only examining his injuries. Both of his hands leaked scarlet blood, compliments of the jagged metal he had clung to.

"I did scout the area," she said. "This was the only way in that I could see. Well…" She hesitated.

"Well what?"

"Well, I had checked the ground floor and the floor above, but both were caved in, so that was a no-go. There was another beam like this one, only much higher up on the opposite side," she admitted. "But this one was the obvious choice. The other building had Gunners patrolling it. I'm sorry. Maybe I should have looked into the other way more carefully."

Danse eyed her for a long moment, during which Sawyer tried to keep from squirming. "No," he said at last. "I would have chosen this way too. It wasn't your fault the beam collapsed. But now, we'll need to find another way out."

Sawyer nodded, glad she hadn't messed up this time. On her last mission, she had nearly gotten Knight Rhys killed by stepping on a mine. Rhys _had_ blamed her for that and had delivered a scathing report to Paladin Danse. She cringed at the memory. She was still very new to the Brotherhood. She wasn't even one hundred percent sure what they stood for. Danse had told her she would learn as they went along, but right now, all she knew was that mutants were bad and technology was good.

Danse pulled his pack from his back and took out the first aid kit. "I hadn't expected to need this already," he said, wrapping bandages around his torn up hands. The white cotton turned scarlet almost immediately.

"That looks deep," Sawyer said.

"It is."

"Here." She couldn't help but feel that this was partially her fault. She handed him a stimpack. Danse injected half into one hand and half into the other. Sawyer watched, fascinated, as the wounds began to close up. She had always marveled at the power of medicine.

"Thank you. I should be able to use my weapon now." He stood up, stooping when his black hair brushed the fallen ceiling. "Let's go find that radio. We'll start at the top and work our way down. And be careful. This place is probably infested with ferals."

Sawyer nodded again, also rising. She had run into her fair share of feral ghouls while wandering the Commonwealth in her days before the Brotherhood. She followed Paladin Danse down the hallway. She had counted the stories as best she could in its ruined state, but she thought they were on the seventeenth floor.

"This way," said Danse, leading her through a trashed space filled with cubicles. There were old telephones, smashed-in terminals, and plenty of office supplies lying around. Sawyer picked up a couple pencils, slipping them into one of the pockets on her jumpsuit. When she found a whole ream of white computer paper, she couldn't help but take it even though it made her pack that much heavier.

"What's that for?" Danse asked, noticing she had stopped.

She felt her face pinken a little. "Nothing really," she said. "I like to draw in my free time and clean paper is surprisingly hard to find."

"Perhaps you should have been a Scribe," he said. "If you weren't such a good shot with that 10mm of yours, I'd suggest you make the switch."

"No," she said. "I want to do this: adventuring through the Commonwealth. This was my life before you found me, and I'm not sure I want to give it up."

"Weren't you a salvager?" Danse asked, peering around a corner before beckoning her forward.

"Yeah," she said. "But one of the best salvagers in the Commonwealth. See, now I'm still doing that, but I'm doing it for a good cause." At least, she hoped it was a good cause. She passed Danse, poking her head into one of the cubicles.

"Very well, although your propensity towards reading still makes me believe you would excel as a scribe." Danse placed a hand on her shoulder and Sawyer halted at once. "I thought I heard something."

Sawyer listened hard, but all she could hear was the roar of blood in her ears, and Danse's slow, steady breathing beside her.

After a few moments went by, Danse released her. "It must be my imagination," he said. "All the same, we should proceed with caution."

"Always," Sawyer said, giving him a slight smile over her shoulder that he did not return. He seemed preoccupied, but Sawyer refrained from asking what was on his mind. As much as she wanted to get to know her new companion, Danse was her commanding officer. She wasn't sure what sort of relationship they were supposed to have. Scribe Haylen seemed to get on with him rather informally despite her lower rank, but she might have known him for years. She supposed she could always ask, but after glancing at Danse's stern face, she lost her nerve.

She lingered in the opening to the cubicle, letting Danse overtake her. She followed him in silence as they investigated several smaller rooms, most of which contained nothing more than the cubicles. At last, they came to a crooked staircase which was mostly intact.

"We'll follow this to the top and make our way down floor by floor," Danse decreed.

The building was tall and lopsided, making the climb more difficult. By the time they reached the end of the stairs, Sawyer was out of breath. She wondered if Danse even noticed the strenuous climb. The man's jumpsuit bulged with muscles. Her cheeks flushed with color, and she was glad she was behind him so he couldn't see her looking.

The top floor was partially sunken in. Danse prowled around the collapsed portion, peering in through holes. The sky was exposed above them and Sawyer glanced up, only to be met by raindrops. It hadn't been raining earlier. She moved over to Danse, pulling her hood up. "Anything?" she asked.

Danse sighed. "This looks like the radio station," he said. "What we need is most likely buried beneath this." He gestured at the fallen ceiling.

Sawyer examined the area. There was a small gap in the rubble near the floor. "I bet I could fit in there," she said.

"In that?" Danse eyed her incredulously. Then, his eyes roved over her body. Sawyer shifted in place, self-conscious despite the fact that she'd been giving him a once-over a few minutes prior. "I suppose there's no harm in trying." His gaze shifted back to the hole.

Now that he wasn't staring at her, Sawyer was far more confident. She had crammed herself into some pretty tight places to get good salvage. Being petite in the wasteland was rarely a gift, but she made use of it when she could. She got down on her knees and slipped her pack off, placing it to the side. She put her arms in first, pushing pieces of tile and brick out of the way. It was a tight fit, but with some squirming and squeezing, she popped out on the other side.

The ceiling here was still standing, and miraculously, much of the equipment was unbroken. It looked like no one had made it in here in the last two hundred years. As she rose from the floor, the smell of rot assaulted her nostrils. A cold chill ran down her spine. "Paladin Danse," she whispered. Of course, there was nothing he could do for her now, trapped on the other side of the wall of rubble.

A low gurgling came from beneath a desk. Sawyer pulled her pistol from her side and aimed at the floor. Oozing, decayed arms appeared, followed by the rest of the feral ghoul. It was on its feet quicker than Sawyer thought possible. She cried out as it charged for her, shooting her gun blindly. She missed and the ghoul whacked her hard across the face, staggering her.

"What's going on in there?" Danse shouted.

Sawyer yelped as the ghoul struck her again. "Focus," she whispered. "Don't panic." That was the only way to stay alive in the wasteland. She knew that. Summoning up the training she had undergone for the Brotherhood, she ducked under the ghoul's next swing and raised her pistol up, firing off three shots in quick succession. They all hit their target, and the ghoul dropped to the ground, growling feebly.

Leaning down to examine the feral, Sawyer didn't see the second ghoul until it was too late. It was on her before she had time to stand up, and the brute force of a once-human body colliding with her small form sent her toppling over backwards. Her head hit the sharp corner of a fallen brick and for an instant, she saw stars.

The ghoul was on top of her, flailing and writhing. She could feel the radiation emitting from it as warmth washed over her. Bits of rotted skin came away on her hands as Sawyer tried to push it off. Brown broken teeth flashed before her and suddenly there was blinding pain in her shoulder. It _bit _her. She shrieked and raised her legs up, kicking it squarely in the stomach. It didn't dislodge it completely, but it was enough for her to wriggle free from its grasp. Luckily, she had maintained a grip on her pistol. She pressed it to the ghoul's malformed head and pulled the trigger. Blood and viscera exploded over the room and the ghoul fell dead.

"Sawyer! What's happening in there?" She heard rubble shifting and figured Danse was trying to force his way through.

"It's okay," she said, glancing at her bloody shoulder. Another hole in her jumpsuit. She would have to get a new one when they returned to the police station. "There were a couple ferals in here. I took care of them."

Danse was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Are you hurt?"

Sawyer made a face. She didn't like admitting her own incompetence. "Yeah," she muttered. "One of them bit me on the shoulder. Nothing serious."

"When you come back through, I'll treat you for infection," Danse said. "See if you can find the parts we need."

Covering her nose from the stench of rotting ghoul, Sawyer searched the room. There were several large machines that they had no hope of recovering unless they somehow managed to move that debris, but there were several smaller pieces too. Unfortunately, Sawyer had no idea what she was looking at. Salvage was one thing, but actually using the tech was beyond her. "There's a bunch of stuff here," she said. "Some big ones we can't take, but for the smaller ones, I'll just send them through the hole and you can tell me if we need it. If that's okay." She kept forgetting that she answered to Danse, not the other way around. She wasn't used to this military business yet.

"Affirmative," he said. She pulled the first piece off the desk and sent it through the hole. "We'll take it. We'll take everything you can find, but we are looking for a transmitter. Do you see anything like that?"

"Maybe?" she said. She pulled another piece from one of the larger machines and sent it through.

"Try taking apart the larger machines," said Danse.

"My tools are in my bag," she replied, and Danse sent them through the hole. Using a wrench and screwdriver, Sawyer was able to take the panels off one of the large machines. She dismantled it carefully, passing each part through the gap in the rubble until Danse finally called out to her.

"That's it!" he said. "The transmitter. We got what we came for. Do you see anything else that could be useful?"

Sawyer grabbed a couple more pieces and pushed them through to Danse before passing him her tools. "I'm coming through," she said. For a moment, everything was dark, then Danse moved out of the way of the hole and she slipped through. She nodded up at him as her head emerged. "It smells way better in here, let me tell you." She shifted, trying to force her way out, but her suit was snagged on something. "I think I'm stuck," she said.

Danse took her arms and tugged. She winced as her skin and muscles stretched. From inside the hole came a tearing sound, and suddenly, she popped free, sliding onto the ground with a long rip in the hip of her jumpsuit. "Dammit," she said. Her underwear was visible through the hole, naturally. She cast a glance up at Danse, but he hadn't noticed. He was surveying the tech she had grabbed. "This should make Scribe Haylen happy," he said. He turned back to Sawyer, his dark brows furrowed just enough that they hid the scar over his eye. "Come here. I'll treat your wounds."

She stood up, only to be directed to a broken metal chair. Danse stood over her with the first aid kit. He tore open her jumpsuit a little further so he could see the wound. "This is a nasty bite. Keep this." He handed her a small tube of clear gel. "This will help stop an infection."

"Thanks."

Danse bandaged the wound. "It's not bad enough to need a stimpack," he said. "We need to save as many as we can."

Sawyer nodded. That was fine with her. It hurt, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She'd had far worse than that. She looked at the scar passing through Danse's eyebrow again. Her own scars weren't in such visible locations, but they were just as deep.

Danse put away the first aid kit. "Let's get out of here." He carefully placed the transmitter in his pack, followed by some of the smaller pieces. "Take as many as you can fit," he told her.

Sawyer filled up her own backpack with as much tech as she could carry. "Ready," she said when she was through. Danse nodded and led the way to the staircase. They had gotten lucky, finding what they needed on only the second floor they searched. Now though, they had to find a way out.

"We'll head down to the lowest level we can reach," Danse said. "We can make our way outside from there. Worst case scenario, we use the secondary entrance you found and fight our way through the Gunners."

Sawyer hoped it wouldn't come to that. She had no desire to be in the middle of a firefight. She had faced Gunners before and had only narrowly escaped. Their reputation as ruthless mercenaries was well-deserved.

She followed Danse down the stairs. He kept a steady pace, but Sawyer could easily keep up this time. Going down was much easier than going up. At last, they reached a part of the stairs that was caved in. "This is where we stop," Danse said. "Let's explore this floor. I want to know how high up we are."

They made their way through another maze of cubicles and offices towards the windows. To Sawyer's dismay, they were much higher off the ground than she had expected. They had to be on the sixth or seventh floor at least. Much too high to jump. "Crap," she said.

Danse appeared beside her and she looked up at him. "What now?"

"What do you suggest, soldier?"

"Well… if I was here doing a salvaging run, I'd look for another way down to a lower floor. Collapsed ceilings, holes in the floor, that sort of thing."

"Good," said Danse. "Get to it."

Sawyer searched for any way out, and was pleased to discover in one of the shadowy corners of the building that part of the floor had fallen inward, creating a sort of slide down into the next level. "Paladin! Over here."

"Outstanding," said Danse when he arrived. He cautiously slid down the tiled surface onto the moldy old carpet on the next level. Sawyer was quick to follow, and the search began anew.

They made it to what Sawyer was certain was the third floor when the familiar smell of rot hit her full-on. "Paladin," she began, but he had already tensed up like he knew something was amiss.

A low growling sounded off to the left, and Sawyer leapt to face it, her hand on her gun. But then, another snarl came from the right, and one right in front of them. They were surrounded. She stared in horror as ghoul after ghoul rose up from the ground and began shambling towards them. There had to be at least twenty of them, maybe more.

"Paladin Danse?" she breathed. His laser rifle was already at the ready, but when Sawyer met his eyes, they were darting back and forth between all the ghouls. He knew they were outmatched, she realized.

The ghouls hadn't made a move yet. They almost seemed to be waiting. Sawyer felt something against her back and had to try hard not to jump in terror, but it was only Danse pressing his back against hers. Sawyer's heart was pounding so hard she was convinced Danse could hear her fear.

"For honor," Danse said softly. "For glory. For the Brotherhood!" He bellowed the last phrase and blasted the nearest ghoul with a laser beam. It collapsed into a pile of ash. That was all the ferals had been waiting for. They surged forward in a decaying, rotted wave.


	2. Chapter 2

Sawyer yelled out as the ferals fell upon her. She sprayed bullets across the room, shooting as many as she could until her weapon was empty. She dug in her pocket for a full magazine, but a ghoul knocked it out of her hand. Filthy fingernails sliced across her face and sharp, jagged teeth met her exposed neck. She shoved the ghoul away, but another one took its place, and another and another. Her pistol was ripped from her hand and she fell to the ground, a pile of ghouls on top of her. They were tearing at her flesh, ripping and pulling and biting. She was going to die, torn apart by ferals for a cause she wasn't sure she believed in.

"Danse!" she screamed. She tried to cover her face, to protect herself from the onslaught, but they only tore at her hands. Just as she had resigned herself to her death, ash filled her open mouth.

"Get up!" Danse shouted. He reached down and hauled Sawyer to her feet. In the few seconds he took to help her, the ferals swarmed him. They brought him down to the ground, tearing into him like they had to Sawyer only seconds prior. His laser rifle fell at Sawyer's feet. She stared at it for what seemed like an eternity until something clicked in her mind. She snatched up the rifle and blasted away at the wall of feral ghouls. Once she had given Danse an opening to clamber to his feet, she turned and shot out the window behind them. Glass shards rained down over them. "Jump!" she yelled to Danse.

Bedraggled and covered in blood and ooze, he met her eyes, nodded once and dove out the open window. A few seconds later, she heard his cry of pain as he hit the ground. That was her cue. She backed up, shooting down the ferals until the gun clicked in her hand. The energy cell was empty. She looked down. It had to be at least thirty feet, maybe more. Below, Danse stood up just as Sawyer jumped.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she fell, expecting to be dashed against the cracked pavement, but instead, strong arms wrapped around her. She opened her eyes as she and Danse hit the ground. Winded, Sawyer lay still for a moment on top of Paladin Danse. She couldn't believe she was still alive.

Danse pushed her to the side and sat up, coughing. "Next time," he said, "Keep your eyes open. I almost didn't catch you."

"Yes, Paladin. And thank you for saving me."

Clearing his throat, Danse stood, favoring his left side. "Of course," he said. He pulled off his backpack and checked the contents. "None of these components seem broken. Check yours."

Sawyer looked through her own pack. Everything seemed fine, and she nodded to Danse.

"Good," he said. "Let's get back to base." He glanced at the building next to theirs. "After we get my power armor."

Sighing, Sawyer hefted her bag again and followed after Paladin Danse. Once they had retrieved his suit of power armor, they began the journey to the other side of the city. It would be at least a two-hour hike, possibly more with the way Danse's ankle had looked.

They walked in silence for at least half an hour before Danse spoke. "Initiate," he began, and Sawyer was sure he was going to reprimand her.

"Yes sir," she mumbled.

"You did well back there."

Sawyer looked up in surprise. "Really?"

Danse paused and turned around to meet her gaze. "Yes. We were up against an impossible force and you got us out alive, and with the technology intact. You showed quick-thinking and initiative in battle."

She couldn't believe it. She had expected harsh criticism. "Thank you," she said.

Danse nodded. "Of course, there is always room for improvement. For instance, you should _always _carry a backup weapon." He went on to explain how some of her tactics were a little sloppy, but Sawyer had stopped listening. Her heart sank when she realized she had lost her 10mm. She'd had that gun for ages, since she was a little girl, alone in the vast wasteland except for that weapon.

"I lost it," she blurted in the middle of Danse's commentary.

He looked annoyed that she had interrupted him, but asked anyways. "Lost what?"

"My gun."

"You can grab a laser pistol from the police station," he said, frowning. "It'll take some getting used to, but the basic concept is the same."

"It's just... " Danse probably wasn't interested in her life story, she decided. "Nothing. You're right."

Danse looked at her for a few seconds, then pulled a second laser rifle from his side. "I've had this gun since I joined the Brotherhood." He showed her all the dings and scratches in its plastic frame. "Over time, I've made many special modifications to it, even given it a name. I've gone through great pains to keep this weapon with me. Losing your weapon can be like losing a friend."

Sawyer nodded. That was how she felt. It seemed ridiculous to be this upset over a gun, but it had saved her life countless times. At least Danse understood where she was coming from.

"Hold on to that rifle I dropped earlier," he told her. "Traveling unarmed through the city is foolish."

She had almost forgotten she had it, clipped onto the side of her ruined jumpsuit. She unclipped it and clutched it tightly. The silence that filled the next few minutes seemed more companionable than before, and Sawyer permitted herself to relax. They crossed over winding streets and ducked through alleys when they weren't blocked. Danse was doing his best to keep them out of sight. "_Protect technology at all cost."_ That was what he often said.

"Paladin Danse? Can I ask you something?" The words were out before she thought better of it.

He paused while looking both ways down a main street. "What is it?"

"How did you get your-"

Danse held up a hand to silence her and she stopped talking immediately. "Super mutants," he murmured, nodding his head down the street. A cluster of the tall, green mutants had turned out of a nearby alley and were heading towards where the two of them were hiding. Danse's hand, the one not holding his rifle, curled into a fist. What was his deal with super mutants? He seemed to really hate them. Sawyer decided to ask him once the mutants had passed them by.

"We should take them out," Danse muttered. He hefted the laser rifle up to his shoulder. "Filthy mutants should be sent back to Hell. Ready your weapon."

Sawyer's mouth went dry. This seemed like a bad idea. "Just the two of us?" she whispered. There were five mutants in all and she wasn't used to a laser gun, much less a laser rifle. Danse's finger was on the trigger, but he spared her a glance. He must have seen the look on her face. Nostrils flaring, he slowly lowered his rifle and allowed the mutants to walk by unscathed. Sawyer breathed a silent sigh of relief.

It was short-lived, however. One of the mutants stopped in its tracks and sniffed the air. "I SMELL HUMAN!"

Every one of Sawyer's instincts screamed at her to get the hell away from here, but Danse must have sensed it, for he grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. "Don't move," he said, his words barely a breath of air. Sawyer nodded and held as still as she could. She really _really _didn't want to get caught in a fight with mutants. Not like this.

One of the mutants turned toward the one with its nose in the air. "CRUSHER WANTS HUMANS!"

"I KNOW, BROTHER. HUMANS AROUND HERE SOMEWHERE!"

Sawyer leaned up to whisper in Danse's ear. "We need to move."

"No," he hissed. "Remain where you are."

Her stomach lurching, Sawyer obeyed. Then she saw something that made her stomach clench up completely. Six more mutants came from the other end of the street, meeting up with the original five.

"GOT NOTHING, BROTHERS," said one of the new ones. His face was pitted and scarred and he was taller than the rest. He had to be their leader from the way the others crowded around him.

"THERE'S HUMANS HERE!" one of them snarled.

"FIND THEM!" bellowed the leader.

The mutants fanned out and began searching the side streets and alleys. Sawyer held back a gasp as two of them headed right for their hiding place. At this point, even Danse seemed to know they were outmatched. He backed away, tugging Sawyer along with him. "Get in here," he said, gesturing to a large green dumpster. When she hesitated, he huffed out a breath and placed his large metal hands around her waist, lifting her up and dumping her in the container.

"What about you?" she demanded, ignoring how humiliating it was to be toted about like a sack of tatos.

"Don't worry about me." He took off his backpack and handed it to her. "Keep that safe and _stay here._ That's an order." Before she could protest further, Danse dropped the lid of the dumpster and she had to duck so as not to get hit in the head. "For the Brotherhood!" Danse's voice rang out loud and clear despite the walls surrounding her.

This wasn't right. She had to help; she had to do _something!_ No matter what he said, she couldn't leave Danse alone, not when he was up against eleven super mutants. She lifted the corner of the lid and poked the laser rifle out, peering around it. Danse was holding his own. It looked like he had taken down at least two of them so far, but he was becoming surrounded fast.

One super mutant swung a board at him and connected with his head, the only part of him not covered by the power armor. He grunted and shook the blood out of his eyes, but by then, it was too late. The mutants swarmed him and took hold of his arms. One of them snatched his rifle from his hands and flung it down the alley. It skidded behind the dumpster Sawyer was hiding within. Danse managed to pull himself free, punching one mutant so hard, Sawyer was sure she saw teeth go flying, but it wasn't enough.

She couldn't let this go on any longer. Orders or not, she wasn't going to stand by and watch Danse die. She looked through the sight on the rifle and aimed. The blast struck one of the mutants in the shoulder. It howled and spun in her direction, but didn't see her. She shot again and then again, and the mutant collapsed in pain.

Light filled the dumpster and enormous green hands groped around for her. She backed away, but she was up against the wall. The mutant caught hold of her and dragged her into the alley. Sawyer fought hard, kicking and scratching and punching, but it was like the mutant didn't even notice.

"No!" Danse cried when he saw her. He was flat on his back, several mutants holding him down while others attempted to rip his armor from him.

"GET OUT, HUMAN!" growled the one holding Sawyer. Its hand slid around her throat and it lifted her up in the air. Sawyer choked, her air supply dwindling fast. "GET OUT OR THIS ONE DIES!"

She dug her nails into the sausage-like fingers, trying to tug them away from her throat. "Don't," she tried to say, but no words came out. Her face felt red hot, like it was going to burst.

"LITTLE LADY DYING!" roared the mutant.

"Wait!" Danse shouted. "Let her go and I'll come out."

Sawyer tried to shake her head, to tell Danse to keep fighting, but it was becoming harder and harder to stay awake. Everything was starting to dim, and black dots swam in the corners of her eyes. Her lungs felt tight and empty, so empty.

The mutant just laughed and gave Sawyer a little shake. "TIME'S RUNNING OUT!"

"Alright!" Danse must have activated something in his power armor, because the arms and legs widened. The mutants grabbed the armor and flung it aside, leaving Danse to quickly scramble to his feet. "Now, let her go!"

Several mutants grabbed Danse's arms, pinning them behind his back. He grunted, trying to mask his obvious pain. "Let her go," he demanded again. His dark eyes were filled with such hatred, Sawyer was almost scared to look at him. Her arms dropped to her sides. She was done fighting. She had no more energy to do so. Just as darkness threatened to overtake her, she could breathe again. She rasped in a deep breath. It felt like fire going into her lungs, but her vision cleared and the dark spots vanished. The mutant holding her threw her to the ground at Danse's feet. She lay there, momentarily stunned.

The leader came right up to Danse's face, stepping over Sawyer. "YOU OURS NOW!" It laughed a horrible, guttural sound. "WE WIN, YOU DIE!"

"MAYBE WE KEEP THIS ONE, BOSS!" said the one who had been choking Sawyer. "HE GOOD FIGHTER."

Danse, who hadn't previously been struggling, launched into a frenzy. He even succeeded in freeing one of his arms from his captors before they pinned him down again, this time with his face in the dirt besides Sawyer's.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. Danse didn't respond. His fierce eyes were fixed on the mutant leader.

"NO," said the leader. "WE PUT THEM WITH THE OTHERS."

Danse seemed to calm upon hearing that and finally met Sawyer's gaze. "I told you to stay hidden," he said coldly.

"They would have killed you," she said. She didn't care what Danse said. She stood by her decision. Even if it had only made things worse.

"What do you think they'll do to us now? At least you and the technology we recovered would be safe if you had obeyed my command."

Sawyer cast a glance at the dumpster. It was safe enough there for now. If they managed to escape these mutants, they could come back for it. Of course, that was a big 'if'.

"YOU THREE STAY HERE. HUNT MORE. YOU FOUR COME WITH ME. WE BRING THE HUMANS BACK TO CAMP." The lead mutant reached for Sawyer, grabbing her long blonde hair and yanking her upright. She yelped and pulled, willing her hair to break so she could run and get help. She didn't know where she would go or who in this godforsaken wasteland would help, but she had to try. She couldn't stand looking at Danse down in the dirt, a super mutant's foot pressed against his head. Her hair, of course, held strong and she succeeded only in hurting her scalp. Two mutants reached down and dragged Danse to his feet. He struggled, but this time, they weren't letting him get away.

The leader of the mutants bent down and put his face directly in front of Danse. "TRY TO ESCAPE AGAIN AND I BREAK SOMETHING!"

Danse spat in his face. Sawyer gasped, but the mutant only laughed. He went to walk away but then turned around and slugged Danse in the face so hard Sawyer heard a crack. A moment later, Danse spat something jagged and white onto the ground, along with a spray of blood. A tooth, Sawyer realized.

The leader handed one of the others a rusty old chain, which was then looped around Danse's neck several times. Sawyer watched helplessly, the leader's hand still tangled in her hair, as two mutants took hold of the ends of the chain and pulled. Danse's hands went to his throat.

"YOU WALK, YOU BREATHE!"

Tears formed in Sawyer's eyes, a reaction that surprised her. Danse was a proud man. Watching him be walked like some common mutt would be painful at best. "Let him go!" she demanded. "He'll walk on his own, I swear!" But the mutants ignored her.

"GO," said the leader, hefting Sawyer up by her hair until her face was level with his. She cried out in pain and the mutant laughed. "HARDLY ANY MEAT ON THIS ONE!" he said, and the other four grunted in agreement.

So that was to be their fate? The mutants would eat them!? Sawyer had heard stories about the horrors of super mutants, but she never expected to live through one herself. She had always been lucky. Until now. The lead mutant threw her over its shoulder and started stomping down the road.

Sawyer could see Danse from her position. He refused to break. Despite his chains, his head was held high and his chest puffed out. He was going to fight until the end. Well, if Danse was going to fight, then so was she.

She waited until they were passing over a bridge on their way out of the city to make her move. The mutant holding her had relaxed his grip somewhat since she had laid limply the entire time. Using her feet to push herself off, she fell to the ground behind the mutant.

"HEY!" it bellowed, but Sawyer was already moving. She got to her feet and sprinted over to Danse. As she suspected, the mutants holding his chains closed in on her, loosening the links. Danse reacted exactly as she hoped he would, and pulled the chains from around his neck. He charged at the nearest mutant, grappling with it for its gun, a rusty old pipe rifle. Whatever worked. A gun was a gun.

Sawyer narrowly dodged the swipe of a gigantic green hand. Now that Danse was free, she wasn't entirely sure what to do with herself except stay out of the way. Once again, she had to fight all her instincts to run. She was a part of something now, the Brotherhood. She had to stay with Danse. A blast of gunfire went off and shells rained down over her. She looked up at Danse. He had gotten the gun!

"Run!" he yelled, seeing her defenseless. A super mutant bore down on him and he filled its hide with bullets. The mutant didn't go down, but it had certainly been slowed by the onslaught.

She stared at Danse, who was facing down three mutants now. He told her to run. But she couldn't just leave him. Or maybe she could. She picked up a sharp rock from the ground and hurled it at the back of a mutant's head. It collided with a solid 'thunk' and the mutant spun around, growling. It stormed towards her, and Sawyer took off in a sprint. The lead mutant, also gave chase, leaving Danse alone with only two to contend with. They just might make it. Sawyer ran to the end of the bridge and leapt over the railing, hitting the ground in a roll. She didn't waste time being impressed that had worked, for her pursuers were right behind her. They shook the ground as they ran.

Before her, an upended truck loomed, and she dodged around it. A sharp beeping came from the rubble, growing faster and faster. Sawyer's jaw dropped in panic. Landmine! The mutants were only a few steps behind her. She forced herself to stand still for just a second more before bolting as fast as she could. The explosion sent her flying.

She hit the ground hard, gasping as pain seared through her elbow. Ignoring it, she spun around to see what became of the mutants. They too had been thrown to the ground, but both of them were getting to their feet. Sawyer scrambled upright. Something felt off, though, and her eyes roved the scene, trying to figure it out. Finally, she saw it. The truck was on fire. She had scant seconds before it blew them all sky high.

Her gasp caught in her throat as she fled, but it was too late. The nuclear engine exploded. She felt familiar radiation wash over her as she was lifted off her feet and thrown over an embankment. With a splash, she landed in the river, mostly unharmed. She closed her eyes momentarily as she sank down to the bottom. She had gotten extremely lucky. Hopefully, the mutants had fared far worse. Sawyer struck the bottom of the river. She opened her eyes and swam to the surface, letting the current carry her beneath the bridge to the other side. Near the shore, the water became shallow and she waded out onto dry land. Gunfire sounded again and she was reminded that this wasn't over yet. She still had to help Danse.

She ran up to the bridge, ducking below the guardrail so the mutants wouldn't see her. From her position, she could see Danse's back. He had managed to take the pipe rifle from the mutant, but from the looks of it, it was out of bullets, for he was using it as an improvised club, bashing his adversary in its ugly, misshapen face. One of the mutants lay beaten on the asphalt, but it was rolling over and clambering to its feet behind Danse.

On the ground several feet away was a small combat knife. Sawyer wasn't sure who had dropped it, Danse or the mutants, but that was hardly relevant right now. She lunged from her hiding place, grabbing the knife and with a strange kind of frenzy, screamed and hurled herself at the rising mutant, plunging the knife into its thick flesh over and over.

The super mutant howled and backhanded her across the face. Sawyer's neck snapped to the side and it felt like all the bones in her spine cracked. She flew across the bridge and slammed into the guardrail. Dazed, she staggered upright, but the mutant was faster despite its injuries.

"I'LL WEAR YOUR GUTS AROUND MY NECK!" it said as it grabbed for her. She ducked its first attempt, but another backhand sent her reeling and the mutant picked her up by the throat. It squeezed, and Sawyer realized then that the first time it happened, the mutant had been almost delicate with her. This one meant business.

"HA!" it cried in triumph. "LITTLE MAN! WATCH HER DIE!"

Danse, who had knocked his mutant to the ground and was busy crushing its skull with the end of the pipe rifle, turned around. His face changed from fury to panic when he saw Sawyer's situation. Sawyer clawed at the mutant's fingers. This couldn't be happening, not when they were so close to victory.

"COME HERE!" demanded the mutant.

Danse gritted his teeth and slowly walked over. He was limping and covered in blood. Sawyer didn't know if it was his or the mutant's. The black spots in her eyes were back, and this time they were closing in much faster. The combat knife was slipping from her hand as her fingers loosened. The knife! In her panic, she had completely forgotten about it. She stabbed the super mutant's fingers as hard as she could and it released her with a squawk of pain. Sawyer fell to the ground, gasping.

Danse needed no coaxing to jump into action again. He slammed the butt of the rifle into the mutant's head. It grabbed the gun, but Danse wouldn't let go. He was flung to the side, barely managing to cling to the rifle in the process. The mutant, having taken care of Danse, turned back to Sawyer. She scuttled backwards as the mutant aimed a kick in her direction. The foot connected with her ribs and she felt them splinter. She cried out, holding her side as the mutant advanced. It picked her up again and held her face up to its own.

"GONNA KILL YOU! GONNA EAT YOU!"

It crushed her throat. Not even a wisp of air could make it through, and it hurt. Tears of pain sprang to her eyes. She raised the knife up, intending to stab the mutant in the face, but it caught hold of her arm and bent it backwards. There was a terrible snap as it broke. She tried to scream, but no sound could leave her closed airways.

Danse appeared, ramming the rifle against the mutant's head. It spun as it dropped Sawyer, and to her horror, she fell over the side of the bridge onto the stony banks of the river. Her attempt to land on her feet was thwarted by the slippery rocks and she landed badly on her ankle. She fell heavily on her broken arm. Pain radiated through her whole body, but there was no time to deal with it. She had to help Danse.

She jumped to her feet and yelped when she found herself back amongst the rocks. She tried again, gingerly putting weight on her ankle, but it would not support her. Well, if she couldn't walk, she would crawl. She began to climb, slicing her hands on the sharp rocks as she went. Up above, she could hear the battle continue. When she reached the guardrail, she heaved herself over and dropped to the pavement, just as Danse bashed the rifle against the mutant's skull. With a deciding crack, the mutant dropped like a stone.

Sawyer slumped over in relief, closing her eyes. There was another sickening crack, and her eyes flew open, certain the mutant had tricked Danse into letting down his guard. However, it turned out to be Danse slamming the rifle into its head again and again until the mutant's face was a pulpy mass of blood and ooze.

She got to her knees and crawled over to Danse, tugging on his arm. "Paladin… it's over. It's dead." Her voice came out weak and shaky.

Danse, breathing heavily, looked down at the mutant like it was the first time he had seen it and stumbled back a step. "I- I know," he said. He turned to look at her and his eyes widened slightly.

The gasp Sawyer sucked in burned her crushed throat. Danse was drenched in blood from his head to his feet. "Paladin Danse, are you hurt?" she asked.

He seemed to think about it for a moment before he nodded. "Yes," he said. "But nothing I can't walk off. But you… what happened to you? Where are the other two mutants?"

Sawyer quickly recanted the tale of the landmine and the exploding truck. "...so I think they must have died in the blast," she finished, rubbing her throat. It hurt to talk. "I think I broke my ankle. And my arm." She clutched the wounded arm close to her chest. It felt like it had snapped right at the elbow.

"Alright," Danse said, still breathing hard. "We need to get out of here. Now. If you're wrong about those mutants dying, we're as good as dead standing out here in the open." He glanced around and gritted his teeth again. "I don't know where we are," he said. "I'm not sure of the way back to the police station."

Sawyer looked around too. There was nothing familiar about the area. She had been too busy trying to come up with a plan of escape to keep track of where they were going. "We know the city is that way," she said, pointing back the way they came.

Danse nodded. "We were supposed to be back at the station hours ago," he said. "Rhys and Haylen must be worried, but they know to stay where they are." His eyes narrowed. "Unlike you, initiate. If it weren't for you-"

"If it weren't for me, you'd be dead!" she snapped. She wasn't capable of taking Danse's criticism right now, not when she was in so much pain, especially now that the adrenaline of the situation was wearing off.

"I gave you an order!" he shouted. "I am your commanding officer and you need to learn what that means."

"Danse…"

"Paladin Danse!"

"_Paladin _Danse, please," she said and was ashamed to feel her bottom lip trembling. Tears splashed down her cheeks. "Yell at me all you want later, okay? But please, I can't… I just can't…" The tears gave way to racking sobs, which made her whole body ache, especially where her ribs had been broken. She had never before been in a situation like this. Sure, she had had some near misses in the past, but she had never actually stared into the face of death like she had today.

Danse had already opened his mouth, presumably to shout at her some more, but he closed it when he looked at her. He seemed to see her properly for the first time since their narrow victory. "Alright," he said, much more gently. "We need to get off this bridge. I'll assess your wounds when we find somewhere to bivouac."

Sawyer nodded gratefully, then frowned. "Bivouac?"

"Camp," he explained. "Come on."

She tried to stand, but her ankle still wouldn't support her weight. "I can't," she said. "I think it's broken."

Danse sighed and strode over to her. With one arm under her knees and one around her back, he lifted her off the ground. She placed her good arm around his neck and tried not to look him in the eye. It was embarrassing being carried, plus she was still crying. Danse started walking, his limp more pronounced now that he was weighed down with another human. They traveled parallel to the city, following the river for several hours until night had well and truly fallen.

"We need shelter," Danse said, waking Sawyer from a light doze. They hadn't spoken since he had begun carrying her. She raised her head from Danse's chest and looked around.

"There's something up there," she said, gesturing to the left.

Danse took them a bit closer and a tiny shack loomed up out of the darkness. He placed Sawyer down in the tall grass. "Stay here," he said. "I'll reconnoiter the area." Sawyer didn't even think of disobeying him this time. She was too tired and hurt to argue. A few minutes later, Danse came back. "It looks like it's been abandoned for a long time. There's a mattress in there. We can rest until morning."

"Okay," Sawyer said. Danse helped her to her feet and had her lean on his shoulder to walk into the shack. A couple radroaches crawled out of the cracks, but Danse squashed them with his boot and all was silent. Sawyer sat down on the dirty old mattress. She couldn't care less how filthy the place was. All she wanted was to go to sleep and escape her pain for a while.

"I need to assess your wounds," Danse said. Sawyer couldn't repress a small groan. She just wanted to sleep. Danse ignored her and knelt down in front of her. "Let me see your ankle."

As carefully as she could, Sawyer lifted her sore leg up. With a delicate touch, Danse moved away the bloodstained orange jumpsuit. Calluses brushed against her skin as Danse carefully felt the injured area. Despite trying to hold it back, Sawyer winced. "It's not broken," he said, gently lowering her ankle. "It's sprained. Elevate it while you sleep, that should help. We need to bind it." He looked around the room and got up, going over to an old dresser. Upon opening the crooked drawers, he brought out a faded old dress. "This will work." He tore the fabric into strips and wrapped it tightly around her ankle and foot.

"It's already starting to feel better," she said when he was through.

"Where else are you injured?" he asked, already zoning in on her arm. After ascertaining that it was indeed broken, he pulled a tiny pocketknife from his jumpsuit and fashioned a makeshift sling from the remains of the green dress.

"I wish we had our stimpacks," Sawyer said, lamenting the fact that their backpacks were miles away in a dumpster somewhere on the far side of Boston.

"Anything else?" Danse asked.

Sawyer nodded. "I think my ribs might be broken. It hurts to breathe." For that matter, her voice was still raspy and weak from being choked, but she didn't imagine Danse could do anything about that.

Danse sighed and went to unzip her jumpsuit but Sawyer shrank away. She felt strangely vulnerable all of a sudden. Danse fixed her with an inscrutable gaze. "Initiate," he said, "I assure you, you are safe with me."

She knew that. She trusted Danse, didn't she? All the same, she unzipped her jumpsuit herself, lifting up the black undershirt beneath, exposing her ribs and the long, jagged scar that went from her breasts to her belly. She shivered as Danse's fingers traced the scar. He looked up at her. "What happened?"

Sawyer looked away. "Raiders," she said. "When I was about sixteen. They wanted something I wouldn't give up. They took it anyways and left me for dead."

Danse frowned. "What did you have that was worth dying for?"

She thought for a moment on how to phrase this so he understood, without coming right out and saying it. It was embarrassing. Humiliating. "Innocence," she finally answered.

Something flickered in Danse's eyes and he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said, and it sounded like he really meant it.

Sawyer shook her head. "It was a long time ago. Sort of." Was five years really so long? Obviously, she was still affected by it, and her scar was a daily reminder of what had happened. "How did you get yours?" she asked, mostly to change the subject. She pointed at his eyebrow, where a scar ran from above it, through it and down below his eye.

Danse ran a finger over his own scar. "I had just joined the Brotherhood," he said. "I grew up in the Capital Wasteland, and I was a headstrong, willful initiate. Sound familiar?" He offered her a rare smile, which she returned sheepishly. "I was convinced I could take on a horde of super mutants on my own. I was wrong. If the Paladin in charge of me hadn't shown up, I'd be dead now. I'm lucky I didn't lose my eye, not to mention my life."

"Is that why you hate super mutants so much?"

Danse's face darkened and Sawyer wondered if she had gone too far. "No," he said after a moment's deliberation. "I lost a close friend to super mutants."

"They killed him?"

"No," Danse said, and when he met her eyes, his were fiercely bright. "They changed him. Turned him into one of _them._"

Sawyer gasped. "They can do that?"

"Yes. FEV is an abomination of technology, and those mutants used it on my friend. I… I had to put him down."

"You killed him?"

"It was the only choice. There was nothing to be done to save him anymore. It's what he would have wanted."

"I'm so sorry," Sawyer said. "That's awful. I don't know if I could have done it."

"Really?" Danse asked. "Even now, knowing what super mutants are capable of, you don't think you could end a friend's suffering?"

She considered that. Today had been a shining example of what super mutants were really like. What if Danse had been changed into one? Would she have killed him too? "You're right," she said, and Danse nodded shortly.

"Yes," he said. "Now, were there any other injuries you need to report?"

"No, Paladin," she said. "Nothing that can be helped right now."

"Very well. You should get some rest. We have a long walk in the morning."

Sawyer laid down on the mattress and spent several long minutes trying to find a comfortable position. Danse brought her a box to keep her ankle elevated, and that was uncomfortable as well. Luckily, her fractured ribs and broken arm were on the same side, so she was free to sleep on her left side.

"Good night, Paladin," she said. "Here's to living another day."


	3. Chapter 3

Eventually, she must have drifted off to sleep, but not for very long, for when she woke, it was still dark. Everything hurt worse than it had a few hours prior. Her ribs ached horribly. She rolled onto her back and bumped into Paladin Danse, who was lying beside her on the mattress, his back to her.

In the darkness, she could only make out his shape, but she found herself comforted by the fact that he was there at all. It made her feel safer, closed in between Danse and the wall. She shut her eyes again, trying to will herself back to sleep, but the sharp stabbing pains in her broken bones kept her awake. She gave up after what felt like hours had gone by, and sat up against the wall. She glanced at Danse's sleeping form one more time before allowing herself to let out the feelings she had tried to suppress earlier. Silent tears slid down her cheeks, dripping onto her jumpsuit and the dingy mattress.

A thousand different emotions cascaded through her with those tears: relief that she had escaped with her life, fear of the verbal lashing she was bound to receive from Paladin Danse, anger that her old memories had been dredged up again, and most of all uncertainty about this path she had chosen. She still knew so little about the Brotherhood and what they stood for.

The tiniest of sounds slipped from her lips, a pathetic-sounding whimper. She looked to Danse again, hoping he hadn't heard her, but of course, she could see his dark form shifting to look at her. She sighed and hid her face from his view. It was so dark out, he was unlikely to make out her tears, but she covered them all the same.

"Initiate?" he said, his voice husky from sleep.

"Yes, sir," she muttered, praying that he hadn't noticed her voice crack.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. I- I just can't sleep."

Danse was quiet for a moment. "Is it the pain?" he finally asked.

"Yes… and no." Sawyer cursed herself internally. Why couldn't she have just answered yes and left it at that?

With a sigh, Danse sat up, leaning against the opposite wall. She couldn't see him, but Sawyer was sure he was looking straight at her. "If talking about it will help, I'll listen," he said.

Sawyer sniffled, unable to help herself, and the jig was up. Danse had to know she was crying now. Just great. "I'm okay," she said. "I'm just… just…"

"Overwhelmed?" Danse supplied.

That was a good word for it and Sawyer nodded before remembering that he couldn't see her. "Yes," she said. "By everything. The Brotherhood, the super mutants, you…"

"Me?" Sawyer heard him shift in place slightly.

"Look, Paladin Danse, if you're going to yell at me about not following orders, can you please get it over with now so I can stop worrying about it?"

"I'm not going to reprimand you while you're in distress," he replied, shifting again.

"I can handle it," she said. "Really. Just get it over with. I know I'm supposed to follow your orders, and normally I would have, but you were going to fight _eleven_ super mutants by yourself. I couldn't leave you there. The truth is, Paladin, I don't feel guilty at all for what I did, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Danse was quiet for a long moment. Then, he sighed again. "I can't deny that you probably did save my life. Trusting your instincts and taking the initiative is important too, and you did just that. So… thank you. As for not following my orders, I'd say you've been punished enough for that."

He was letting her off the hook? Just like that? Suddenly, she felt lighter inside, like a weight had been lifted from her back. "Thank you, Paladin," she said.

"As for the Brotherhood," Danse continued. "I know it can be difficult when you first start out. Don't let that discourage you. You're a fighter. You're strong enough for this."

Sawyer was glad it was dark. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. "Thank you," she said again. They were quiet for a little while, sitting in the dark across from each other. The lightness that Sawyer felt slowly transformed into exhaustion, and she yawned. "I feel better now. Thank you," she said for a third time. "For talking to me. I've never really… I grew up alone. So, you know..."

"I understand," Danse said.

"I'm gonna try and get some more sleep if that's alright."

"Affirmative. We can ascertain our position when it's light out."

Sawyer laid down, taking care not to jostle her injured arm. Once she was settled, she felt the indent of the bed as Danse laid down beside her. Oddly comforted, Sawyer allowed herself to drift off.

When next she awoke, she was stiff and sore. "Fuck," she groaned. She peered through the cracks in the shoddy wall beside her. The first rays of light were just streaming through, pink and orange clouds hiding the sun from view. Beside her on the mattress, Paladin Danse slept on. He must have turned over in his sleep, for he was facing her now. Sawyer studied him as a band of light illuminated his face. He was so intense, even when he slept. His thick black hair was unkempt, and Sawyer almost reached out a hand to smooth it back before her sense of decorum returned to her.

She pulled away, contenting herself with relaxing against the wall. Now that she had a clearer head, she was a little embarrassed by their conversation in the dark. Never show weakness in the wasteland. That was a rule she tried to live by most days. Still, she couldn't help but be glad of what had transpired between her and Danse. She felt like she knew him a little better now. He was more than only a tough, commanding presence.

She only had to wait a few more minutes before Danse stirred. He groaned and held up a hand against the light beaming down on his face. Then he yawned and closed his eyes again, frowning. Sawyer had to stifle a small laugh. Danse may be a tough, intimidating soldier, but he was still as human as she was when it came to waking up.

"Morning, Paladin." Danse didn't answer, just shook his head a little and sat up. He turned his head to the side, cracking the bones in his neck. Sawyer winced at the sound. "Not a morning person?" she asked.

"Not today," he replied. He looked her over briefly, his brows furrowing. "You seem unusually chipper this morning. Or is this how you are every morning?"

"Just today," she said. "We're still alive! How can I not be in a good mood?" She glanced at the sling around her arm. "Well, mostly alive," she amended.

"Hmm," Danse said, narrowing his eyes as he followed her gaze. "Getting back to base will be difficult with you in this state. Are you able to bear weight on that ankle?"

Sawyer wasn't sure. She scooted past Danse on the mattress and stood up on her good leg, gingerly testing her ankle. She winced when she took a step and had to catch herself on the dresser.

"That's a 'no' then," Danse said. He sighed and stood up. "Come here. You can lean on me."

Sawyer tried resting her arm over Danse's shoulders, but found she was too short, so she settled for his waist, squeezing him tightly every step they took. It was slow-going, even just getting out the door. "This is not comfortable," she muttered.

"No," Danse agreed. "It's not." He squinted up at the sky, taking in the rising sun. "We know Boston is to our backs. That makes this way north." He pointed in a random direction. "Cambridge should be to the northeast. We can double back and try to make it through the city, or we can travel overland through the wilderness."

He was leaving this decision up to her? "Paladin, I can't even walk," she said. "It's really your call. But… going through the city would be crazy without a weapon. At least out here, all we have to worry about are radstags and bugs."

"And yaoguai, deathclaws, and who knows what else might be out here," Danse corrected her. "That being said, I think you're right. Raiders, gunners, and mutants will be sparse in the wild. Very well. We'll follow the river for now."

It was even slower work walking along the banks of the river. The ground was soft and squishy, and she and Danse often slipped. Even when they tried walking a bit farther from the wet part, the ground was rocky and uneven.

"Are we gonna do this the whole way back?" Sawyer asked after she nearly faceplanted for the second time in ten minutes, trying to keep the misery out of her voice. It _was_ miserable. Her arm was killing her, as was her strong leg from bearing all her weight. Not only that, but she was hungry, tired, and sweaty. Danse could hardly be faring any better, having to support her every other step.

Danse stopped and frowned. "No," he said. "I'll carry you."

"Wait, that's not what-" But it was too late to argue. Danse had already lifted her off her feet. "I just meant I could use a break."

"We don't have time for breaks," he said. "We need to get back to base immediately. We both need medical attention." Danse clenched his jaw and a flash of pain shot across his face, gone in an instant. "And Haylen and Rhys are no doubt worried."

"I can't wait to get my hands on some stimpaks," Sawyer said. The first thing she would do is inject one into her ankle.

Danse stumbled and Sawyer nearly fell out of his arms. She swore and looped her arm around his neck. Danse shot her a look, but otherwise didn't comment. She didn't see what the big deal was. Everyone she knew in the Wasteland cursed. When Danse staggered again, Sawyer knew something was wrong. "Paladin?" she asked.

"It's fine. I'm alright." He took another step and lurched to the side.

"You're not fine. What happened?"

He sighed and paused, leaning against a dead tree. "My ankle," he said. "I hurt it in the fall from the window."

"It's me, isn't it? The extra weight."

Straightening up, he squared his shoulders. "That doesn't matter. I just have to deal with it. The only other option is leaving you here, and I won't do that."

"It makes sense," she argued, though her stomach twisted at the thought of being left alone in the wilderness, unable to walk. "You can go and get help, and-"

"No." Danse's voice was so stern, Sawyer stopped talking at once. "I won't abandon my soldiers. In the Brotherhood, we stick together no matter what." He resumed walking and Sawyer could see in his expression the effort it took not to wince. She bit her lip to keep her big mouth shut. She couldn't very well tell Danse what to do, after all. So she stayed quiet, grimacing with every step at Danse's perceived pain.

They walked for hours, well into the afternoon. Sawyer's face was hot and sunburnt, and Danse was faring no better. In the middle of a dead forest, he finally stopped to rest. He groaned softly as he placed Sawyer on a fallen log, stretching his arms.

"How far do you think we are?" she asked, speaking for the first time in several hours.

"I have no idea," Danse replied. He wiped sweat from his forehead. "We could be anywhere. All I know is that the river has to take us somewhere."

"Right," Sawyer said, an aura of gloom surrounding her. For all they knew, the river could curve out into the middle of nowhere and it could be days before they found civilization. Sawyer went to stand up and yelped when she put all her weight on her bad ankle. She had somehow managed to completely forget about it.

"What do you need?" Danse asked.

Sawyer flushed and looked away. "Bathroom," she said. Danse, to his credit, took it in stride with only a resigned look on his face. He helped her to her feet and led her over to a cluster of dead trees by the edge of the river. "Will you be alright here?"

"Yeah, thanks." She waited until the sound of leaves crackling under his feet faded away before taking care of her business. When she was done, she stood up, using the trees for balance, and hobbled her way over to the banks of the river. She knelt down, cupping water in her hands and drinking.

When she had her fill, she ran her hand through the water, watching the ripples spreading from her fingertips. It was cold. Winter was coming soon. Hopefully, the weather would stay cool and comfortable like it had been for the last couple days. She glanced up at the sky and eyed the blanket of grey clouds that had formed. It better not rain. Their trek could hardly stand to become even _more_ miserable.

"Sawyer!"

The sound of her name startled her out of her reverie. "Yeah, I'm here," she called, and a moment later, Danse appeared behind her.

"What are you doing?"

"Just getting some water."

"You'll irradiate yourself drinking that."

She shrugged. "I'll dose myself with RadAway when we get back to the station." She had to bite her tongue to refrain from adding "_if we ever get there."_

Danse seemed to consider that. "I suppose it's better than being thirsty," he said, and sat down beside her to drink. He splashed water over his face, scrubbing away the dried mutant blood that still streaked across his cheeks and into the thick stubble on his chin. When he was done, he stood up and offered her his hand. "Let's get moving." He pulled her upright and lifted her off the ground once again.

After another couple hours limping their way through the dead forest, the trees turned into a scraggly field. It was starting to get dark again, and Sawyer was not looking forward to making camp out in the open. "Up ahead," Danse said suddenly. "Perhaps we can seek shelter there."

Off in the distance were several crudely-built shacks, much like the one they had rested in after their battle with the super mutants. As they drew nearer, Sawyer could see several people milling about a small patch of crops. As if in response, her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten in two days. Neither of them had.

Danse walked up to one of the men working the field, but before he could get any words out, the man whipped out a pipe pistol, aiming it at Danse's face. "What the hell do you want?" he growled. "We don't have anything for you here, scavver."

"We mean you no harm, civilian," Danse said. "My compatriot is badly wounded."

"And that's my problem how?" The man shook the gun, trying to make himself appear more threatening. "Get out of here. Now."

"Look, we are unarmed and hurt," Sawyer said, and the man quickly turned the gun on her instead. "We just need somewhere to rest for the night and then we'll be on our way. Think you can help us out?"

The man glared at her. "Did you even listen to what I said? I said get out! I ain't gonna tell you again."

Anger burned in Danse's eyes, but all he said to the man was "We're leaving." As he turned to go, a woman came out of one of the shacks. "Jacob? What's going on?"

"Nothing, Julie. Just some scavvers trying to get a free meal or something."

The woman, Julie, came up to them and Danse paused. "If you want food, you can work for it," she said. "We have wood that needs to be chopped for the fire. Do that, and I'll give you both food."

"Julie, we don't know these scavvers from Adam!" the man protested. "They could kill us in the night and take everything." He glared at them both.

Sawyer understood being cautious in the wasteland, but there was no need to be outright rude about it. "Like I said, we're hurt. I can't even walk, okay? We just want somewhere to rest for the night. You don't even have to feed us." Her stomach growled again as if cursing her for suggesting that.

Julie cast a scathing look at the man. "Jacob, if they need our help, what kind of people would we be to turn them away into the night?"

"People who stay alive!" Jacob snapped.

Shaking her head, Julie turned back to Danse and Sawyer. "As I said before, if you can help out around here, you're welcome to stay the night. Chop that wood there." She pointed to a small pile of logs with an axe sticking out of it. "And don't mind my brother. He's just overprotective. You understand, I'm sure."

"Yeah, I get it," Sawyer said.

"Jacob, put the gun down!" Julie said, and her brother reluctantly lowered the weapon.

"I'll be watching you," he said. "Don't try anything funny or you'll regret it."

"Thank you," Danse said to Julie, ignoring Jacob. "I'll get to work on that immediately." He strode over to the pile of wood and set Sawyer down beside the shack, which she grabbed hold of for support.

"Are you okay to do this?" she asked him.

"I'll be fine." He pushed up the sleeves of his jumpsuit and picked up one of the logs, setting it on an old stump. Hefting the axe, he brought it down hard, splitting the log neatly down the middle.

"Okay," Sawyer said, shrugging. She leaned against the side of the shack. "Sorry I can't help," she said. With nothing else to look at, her gaze fell upon Danse. Thick muscle was visible even through the sleeves of his black jumpsuit, bulging as he swung the axe. Sawyer watched him for a few moments. There was nothing else to look at, really, and he certainly wasn't hard on the eyes.

Danse paused to wipe sweat from his brow and met her eyes. She blinked and looked away, trying to keep from blushing. She shouldn't be having thoughts like that about Danse. He was her commanding officer, as he was so fond of reminding her. Besides, he was so wrapped up in the Brotherhood that even if she _did_ want to pursue something there, she was sure he would have nothing to do with it. He probably wouldn't even notice.

"You alright?"

Sawyer jumped and turned around. Julie was standing beside her, a basket of corn in her arms. "Uh, yeah, I guess so. Actually, honestly, no."

Julie laughed and nodded. "I can tell. You look like you could sleep for a week."

"I probably could."

"What happened to you guys that brought you all the way out here? We're pretty isolated, and you look like you got in a fight with a super mutant and lost."

"If we had lost, we wouldn't be standing here," Danse interjected, bringing the axe down so hard, it stuck into the old stump.

Julie's eyes grew wide. "You're saying you actually fought a super mutant?"

"Not just one," Sawyer said. "Eleven. Believe me, it's quite the tale." Saying it out loud made the situation that much more real, and Sawyer shivered. They could easily have ended up in the belly of one of those mutants. More than skilled or powerful, they were lucky.

"How did you survive?"

Sawyer recounted the tale and found herself getting into it the more she spoke.

"Wow," Julie breathed when she was through. "It's amazing that you made it this far."

In the time it had taken for Sawyer to tell the story, Danse had finished chopping up the firewood. He looked to Julie. "Is there anything else?" he asked.

"What? Oh, thank you. No. If I had known what you two had been through, I wouldn't have made you do that. You need to rest."

"Thanks," said Sawyer. "Where should we stay?"

Julie pointed to one of the run-down shacks. "That building there is empty. There should be a couple of old mattresses in there. And please, help yourself to some of our mutfruit. You must be hungry."

"Starving," Sawyer said.

Julie looked between them both with a curious expression. "Who are you guys? You're not just some farmers like us."

Sawyer looked at Danse. It was up to him whether or not to tell her about the Brotherhood. Danse seemed to be considering it too, but finally he said, "We are the Brotherhood of Steel. I am Paladin Danse and this is Initiate Sawyer."

"Never heard of the Brotherhood of Steel," Julie said, her eyes narrowing. "What exactly are you all about?"

"We seek to understand the nature of technology and what it means to us. We also fight against those who would use the power of technology to further their own end. For example, the Institute and their synths."

Sawyer hadn't heard him talk about the Institute much, but just about everyone in the Commonwealth knew that name. She had to resist the impulse to pepper him with questions. It would probably be best to maintain the illusion that she knew what she was doing.

Upon hearing that, Julie's suspicious expression cleared up and she smiled at Danse. "You're here to fight the Institute? Well, anyone who's against them is good in my book."

Danse did not return her smile, only nodded shortly. Julie seemed to take that as her cue to leave and took a few steps towards her doorway. "I wish you better luck in the future. And like I said, help yourself to the mutfruit. There's plenty to go around." She disappeared into her shack, and Sawyer and Danse were left in relative solitude. Jacob was still working the field, occasionally glancing over and giving them the stink eye.

"Come on," said Danse. "I'll take you to our quarters." With his help, Sawyer hobbled to the small shack. The roof was sagging badly and it had no door, but at least it was shelter. In the corner, a couple of old mattresses sat against a broken-down desk. Sawyer leaned against the wall while Danse arranged the mattresses so they could sleep on them. She hopped over to the nearest one, wincing as each jump sent a jolt of pain through her broken bones.

Danse observed her awkward movements. "Perhaps you can do that for the rest of our journey," he suggested.

Sawyer wasn't sure if he was serious or not. It wasn't like Danse to joke around. "If those are your orders, Paladin, I'll give it a shot," she said with a weak smile. She really hoped he was kidding.

He shook his head. "That won't be necessary, Initiate. You'd only do more harm than good. Wait here. I'll go retrieve the mutfruit." He ducked out the doorway and Sawyer was left on her own. She laid back on the mattress, which creaked loudly. In fact, every time she moved an inch, the mattress let out a variety of displeased noises. "This is just great," she grumbled. Not only was her bed noisy, there was a dislodged spring poking her in the back. She considered stealing Danse's mattress instead, but after looking at it, decided hers was the better one.

When Danse returned with his arms full of misshapen purple fruits, Sawyer was on her knees, attempting to flip her mattress over with one arm. "Initiate, _what_ are you doing?"

"My mattress was… ugh… poking me in the back," she grunted, trying to lift it off the ground. "And it's really loud. Trust me, this is for both our sakes."

Danse sighed and put the mutfruits down. He easily lifted the mattress and turned it over. A large bloodstain covered the majority of the once-white fabric. Sawyer opened her mouth to complain, but shut it when she saw Danse's already unimpressed face. In the wasteland, you take what you can get. Another rule Sawyer had once lived by. She sat down on the mattress again, trying to ignore the loud groan it let out.

"Pass me a mutfruit?" she said, glancing at the pile. Danse handed her one and she bit into it with vigor. Juice filled her mouth, right on the edge of being overly sweet. She didn't care. Anything to satiate her hunger. Together, she and Danse consumed twelve of the small fruits. "That's better," she said when the pile was gone. "I was afraid we might starve to death. We might as well have been mutant food in that case."

"Don't say that!" Danse snapped. "I'd rather die any other way than give those abominations the satisfaction of killing me."

Sawyer raised her free hand up in surrender. "Sorry," she said. "I just think starving is one of the worst ways to go, that's all. That or by fire." Danse didn't say anything else, just nodded vaguely. Sawyer made a face when he wasn't looking. He really wasn't much for conversation, was he? "I guess I'll try to sleep," she said.

"Good idea. I hope to reach Cambridge tomorrow, which means we have a long day ahead of us."

She had Danse help her to the latrine, and then they both settled onto their mattresses. She couldn't help but notice that his didn't make any noise at all. Typical. She shut her eyes, trying to drift off, but the damn bed was so uncomfortable, she found herself rolling over every few minutes, which of course made her mattress squeak. In the silence, it was nearly deafening. Beside her, Danse didn't move. He lay facing away from her, presumably asleep. She wasn't sure how he could sleep through the racket she was making. She could see why the people of this settlement had tossed these mattresses away.

A thin sliver of moon shone through the holes in the roof, the only light they had. They hadn't thought to ask Julie for a lantern or candles. She whiled away the minutes by watching the moon and trying to make out the stars in the sky through the many holes, tossing and turning onto her back and her unbroken side.

Rustling startled her, and she sat up quickly, trying to make sense of the darkness, but it was only Danse. He turned to her and she could sense the glare on his face. "Initiate, what the hell are you doing?"

"Sorry," she said. "I told you this mattress was loud. I can't get comfortable."

"Figure it out," Danse growled. He clearly wasn't in the mood for another late night conversation.

"Yes, Paladin."

Danse dropped back onto his mattress after huffing out an annoyed breath. Sawyer laid as still as she could, all her muscles tense in case she moved accidentally. All was quiet for about five minutes until she reached up to scratch her nose. Despite moving as little as possible, the mattress seemed to let out its loudest creak yet. Sawyer cringed.

"Get up." Danse was on his feet. Sawyer used the wall to pull herself upright. Her heart beat loudly, unsure of what Danse was going to do, but all he did was sigh heavily and sit down on her mattress. It complained noisily and Danse was completely silent for a moment. Sawyer wished she could see the look on his face. "Use mine," he told her. "I'll sleep on the floor." Sawyer began to protest but Danse cut her off. "That's an order, soldier."

"Fine," she said. "I mean, yes, Paladin."

She laid down on Danse's mattress, which was just as uncomfortable as hers, but at least it was quiet. Danse settled himself beside her on the floor. It looked like he was using his arm as a pillow. Guilt wormed its way through Sawyer's stomach. How much sleep could Danse possibly get on the hard wooden floor?

Her worries were unfounded, however, when a few minutes later, she heard his breathing change. Slow and rhythmic, the sound comforted her enough that she was able to shut her eyes and concentrate on it until sleep overwhelmed her.


	4. Chapter 4

"Initiate! Sawyer!"

Sawyer jolted awake. Danse's hands were on her shoulders and he was gently shaking her. "I'm up," she mumbled.

"You were out like a light."

"Sorry," she said, yawning. She stretched, using her good arm to reach towards the ceiling. Her broken ribs shifted and she yelped. That woke her up.

Danse's eyes roved over her wounds. "I scouted the area ahead while you were sleeping," he said. "There's an old brewery up ahead on the other side of the river. I think we're getting close."

"Did you get any sleep at all?" Sawyer asked.

"I got enough. Are you ready to move out?"

Sawyer slowly clambered up using the wall. "I think so. Am I walking or riding?"

Danse approached her and lifted her up. "This will go faster if I carry you. Let's go."

"Shouldn't we thank Julie first?"

"No need," came her voice from outside the shack. Julie stepped inside, holding a bushel of razorgrain. "We were glad to help. Well, I was." She glanced outside and Sawyer saw Jacob standing slightly behind her, the same angry look on his face as when they first met him. "Here." She handed Sawyer a machete. "We can't spare much, but you shouldn't go unarmed into the wild."

Sawyer accepted it gratefully. "Thank you so much," she said. "Seriously. We would've been totally screwed without you."

"Now go on and get out of here," Jacob said. Julie rolled her eyes.

"We appreciate your hospitality," said Danse, and he turned away, beginning their long walk home.

The journey was less tedious than yesterday. Both of them had full stomachs and at least a few hour's sleep. Sawyer clutched the machete tightly as Danse tromped through the dead foliage. They passed the brewery he had mentioned earlier, skirting its edges in case there were raiders, but everything seemed quiet.

Several hours later, they broke out onto a road, and from there, it was easy to find their way into Cambridge. The signs of a broken civilization were all around them now. Sawyer examined the crumbling ruins with interest. Who knew what kind of salvage could be found in these old houses and offices?

Danse suddenly backed up against the wall of a house. "Ferals," he said. "The horde infesting Cambridge. We're nearly at the station. Remain silent."

Sawyer nodded and Danse slipped across an alley. When she looked over his shoulder, she swallowed. There had to be at least a dozen ferals staggering about in there. After a few more narrow escapes, they found themselves on the steps of the police station.

"Finally," Sawyer said. Danse pulled open the door and limped inside.

They were met by two laser rifles. "Who the hell- Paladin Danse?" Rhys and Haylen lowered their guns at once.

"You're back!" Scribe Haylen cried. "We thought you were dead. We didn't know what to do except wait here for reinforcements. What happened to you? It's been days."

Danse nodded wearily. "We were waylaid by super mutants," he said. "They destroyed my power armor and injured us both."

"How many were there? How did you escape?"

"It's a long story," said Sawyer.

"The transmitter?" Rhys asked. "Did you get it?"

Gritting his teeth, Danse shook his head. "No. It's in a dumpster in the middle of Boston, along with my laser rifle and all of our supplies."

"You should have brought me," Rhys said, staring at Sawyer with distaste. "Why are you still here, Sawyer? I figured you'd take off at the first sign of danger like you scavvers usually do."

"I'm here to stay, Rhys. Get over it."

"We'll see about that. I told them you wouldn't last a week with the Brotherhood, and it looks like I was right. Look at you. You're nothing but dead weight."

"You know what? Fuck you. You have no idea what-"

"Both of you need to learn to work together as a team!" Danse snapped, interrupting Sawyer. He turned to Rhys. "Sawyer fought like hell against a pack of super mutants. It's only thanks to her that I'm standing here right now. There's no doubt in my mind that she has what it takes to be a part of the Brotherhood. As for you-" He looked down at Sawyer, who he was still carrying. "Rhys is a Brotherhood Knight and you will speak to him accordingly. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Paladin," she muttered, her cheeks heating up.

"Good. Rhys, grab that first aid kit. We have wounds that need attending."

Rhys cast a scathing look at Sawyer, but obeyed Danse's order, digging a white container out from under a pile of rubble. He opened it up and Sawyer sighed in relief. Stimpaks. Lots of them. "Where are you hurt?" he asked Danse, but Danse shook his head.

"See to her first. Her wounds are far more grievous than mine." He set her down on her sleeping bag. Hard floor or not, Sawyer was glad to be back in her own bedding.

Rhys' expression turned cold and he picked up a stimpak. The sharp needle was threatening in his hands and Sawyer scooted back. "I can do it myself," she said.

"Top said to-"

"I'll do it," Haylen interrupted and snatched the stimpak from him, leaving Rhys to see to Danse.

"Thanks," Sawyer said. "I'm pretty sure he would've tried to kill me with that thing."

"Don't mind Rhys," said Haylen. "You know how he is. He bleeds Brotherhood."

"Yeah, well I think at this point, so do I. Literally."

Haylen laughed. "I guess you do. So where are you hurt? Your arm, obviously. Anything else?"

"My ankle is sprained, my ribs are broken, and I kind of all-around _hurt._"

"You do look pretty banged up. Tell me what happened."

Sawyer began the tale, starting from the unstable support beam, while Haylen worked on her wounds, carefully injecting stimpaks into her broken areas. She finished the story just as Haylen was wrapping up.

"That's crazy," she said. "You guys took on eleven mutants? No matter what Rhys says, you're tough, girl." She tossed aside the makeshift sling that had held Sawyer's arm in place. "There. You should be good as new. Though take it easy on those broken bones. They're bound to be a little delicate."

"Thanks," Sawyer said. "Now I can breathe without hurting. And…" She got to her feet, testing her ankle. "I can walk again. Sorry, Paladin Danse. I know you were looking forward to carrying me all over the Commonwealth some more."

Danse, whose wounds took much less time to heal than Sawyer's, glanced at her as she settled herself into her sleeping bag. "Don't get too comfortable," he told her.

She frowned. "Why?"

"You and I are going out tomorrow. We need to retrieve our gear and the transmitter."

Sawyer's jaw dropped. "Seriously?" she asked.

Haylen shot her a glance, but from the look on her face, she was surprised too. "Paladin," she began.

Rhys, of course, was quick to jump in, lashing out at Sawyer. "When Top gives you an order, you do it! You don't get to question-"

"Rhys, I'll handle it," Danse said, holding a hand up so everyone stopped talking. "Retrieving that tech is our top priority. You and I are the only ones who have a chance of finding the alley we were ambushed in. Not only that, but I can't take Haylen because her technical expertise is needed here. We need that radio up and running. I can't take Rhys because that would leave only a Scribe and an Initiate to defend the station. So rest up, soldier."

It made sense, but that didn't mean Sawyer liked it any. She had so been hoping for at least one day of rest. "Remind me why we need this radio again?" she said. Haylen had started to tell her at one point, but they had been interrupted.

Rhys rolled his eyes and scoffed. Bristling, Sawyer spun around to confront him but Danse grabbed her shoulder. "Both of you need to cool it!" he said. "Rhys, you're dismissed."

Snatching up his sleeping bag, Rhys stalked off to one of the other rooms in the station. Haylen sighed. "I'll go talk to him," she said and got up, bringing her own sleeping bag.

"What did I ever do to him?" Sawyer asked Danse, the only one left in the room with her.

"Trust is hard to come by out here," Danse replied. "And you're new. That being said, I'll have a talk with him about his attitude. You're a member of our team now, sister." He eyed her for a long enough time that she started to squirm, but he didn't elaborate further. Instead he said, "As for the radio, we need it to send our distress call. Over half our squad is dead. Finding you was a stroke of luck, but it's not enough."

She thought back to the day she met Danse, several weeks ago. Had she really been with the Brotherhood for that long? Back then, she had been a scavenger, and a good one at that. She may not understand all the technology behind the parts she salvaged, but she knew what was valuable. Gold, silver, copper, crystal, and circuitry always sold well.

She had been exploring an old military outpost in the far reaches of the Commonwealth. She was hoping its remote location meant it hadn't been picked clean of the good stuff yet. Getting in was tricky, but years of practice meant she knew how to disable the guard turrets by now, and quickly pulled their circuitry apart and stashed it in her bag. Once she had gotten inside by crawling through a broken window, she had met Danse almost immediately.

The clank of power armor had been drowned out by Danse kicking down the door. By the time he spotted her, Sawyer already had her pistol aimed between his eyes. He hadn't been wearing his helmet then. He rarely did. "Back off," she had said. "I got here first."

Danse was unintimidated by her show of bravado, and his weapon was pointed at her in less than a second. She had been ready to fire, and would have had it not been for Danse's next words.

"You got past the turrets. Impressive. I figured I would have to take them out by force. And you fit through that?" He nodded at the window, which was barred. She hadn't even noticed.

"Why?" she had demanded. "What's it to you?"

He hadn't answered, only surveyed her thoughtfully, taking in her bag and urban camouflage. "You're a salvager, aren't you? And unlike most salvagers, you didn't run at the first sign of danger. You stood your ground."

"So?"

His following silence had been so profound, Sawyer remembered the discomfort she had felt. Finally, he spoke. "I'm Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. How would you like to be a part of something more meaningful than mere survival?"

It had taken some convincing, but Sawyer was drawn in by the thought of having a real community. She had bounced from place to place for most of her life, never finding a home she truly fit into. Danse had been desperate for more soldiers, it turned out, but he had also said that he had a good feeling about her. Whatever his reasons, she was glad he had found her. While she didn't quite feel at ease with some of the soldiers, Rhys in particular, she felt needed by the Brotherhood, and that sense of being valued was almost intoxicating.

"Okay," she said, realizing Danse was waiting for a response. "I'll be ready to go first thing in the morning."

"Good," he said. "Get some sleep." Danse turned away and strode towards the back rooms of the police station.

Sawyer burrowed into her faded orange sleeping bag, bunching up part of the fabric into a makeshift pillow. She shut her eyes, but the events of the last few days played behind her eyelids, unwilling to let her pass into slumber. She watched the supermutants tearing open Danse's power armor while she choked to death over and over again. Footsteps from behind her made her eyes snap open, but it was only Danse returning to his own sleeping bag. Through slitted eyes, Sawyer watched him lay down and rest his head on his arm. His soft breathing filled the silent room. Focusing on that, Sawyer finally slipped into an uneasy sleep. She awoke several times throughout the night with a jolt, but there was nothing amiss.

Her final awakening came in the form of Danse shouting her name from across the room. "Sawyer! We're heading out in ten. Be ready."

Her eyes opened drearily and she knew she had the darkest of circles below them. "Yes sir," she mumbled, and begrudgingly unzipped her sleeping bag, letting the cold air wash over her. She stood up, trying to stifle a yawn. "Do we have any more uniforms around? Mine's torn."

Haylen, who was typing on the computer terminal nearby, chimed in. "Starkey had a couple spares. They should be in her duffel. Over there." She jabbed a thumb in the back room, near the stairs that led up to the roof. "She was taller than you though, you might have to roll up the sleeves."

"Thanks." Sawyer shivered a little when she entered the back room. This was where all of their former teammates' possessions were stored. She looked for the bag labelled 'Starkey' and found the jumpsuits. Ducking into the stairwell, she quickly stripped out of her ruined suit and put on the new one. Haylen was right. It was too big.

"I'm ready," Sawyer said once she had rolled up the sleeves and legs several times.

"Eat something," Danse commanded, throwing her a baggie full of dried radstag meat. She crinkled her nose, but obeyed, eating a few bites of the jerky. Her stomach grumbled ominously, and she passed the bag back to Danse, who frowned at her. "You'll need your energy, soldier," he said.

"I'm okay," she replied. She held up her canteen, which she was filling up with purified water. "I've got plenty of water." Danse nodded, though his expression didn't change. Sawyer picked up her laser pistol and several energy cells, shoving them in her pocket.

"Haylen, Rhys, keep the base intact," he said. "And Haylen, keep working on that radio. I want it in working order by the time we return."

"Of course, Paladin."

"Let's move out." He held open the door for Sawyer, letting her out before following. "I'll take point," he said. "Keep your weapon at the ready and be prepared for a fight."

Getting out of Cambridge was never easy. Normally, with Danse in power armor, it meant a lot of shooting. This time though, they were free to move silently through the empty city, skirting the larger packs of ferals. Sawyer frowned at a cluster of feral ghouls down an alley that they bypassed.

Danse saw her looking. "Feral scum," he said. "Once reinforcements arrive, we can cleanse this area of them. Until then, however, our objective is the transmitter."

Sawyer nodded, wondering where all of Danse's passionate hatred came from. Ferals, super mutants, and of course Institute synths, though she had yet to come across any of those. She wondered if something was wrong with her. She thought what happened to ferals was tragic. They were once human, after all, their brains and bodies rotted from all the radiation. It wasn't out of hatred that she killed them, but survival.

After their last adventure though, super mutants were another story. They were vile, vicious killing machines. And Danse said _they_ used to be human too, that science had changed them into monsters. Well, Sawyer had seen enough of them to cast judgement. She wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger if one threatened her again.

Danse led her through the city, winding up and down alleys and cracked streets. Several hours went by before the world became familiar again. "Danse! Uh, I mean, Paladin Danse. I recognize this place. We passed by here not long before we ran into the mutants."

He nodded. "Yes, I thought it seemed familiar too. Do you remember-"

But Sawyer was already darting ahead. "Down here!" she cried. "I think it was this alley over here!" She turned the corner just as several blinding flashes of blue light appeared in front of her. Blinking back stars, she squinted, trying to see through the spots in her eyes. Four skeletal figures stood before her. She was sure they hadn't been there a second ago. Maybe they had been using stealth units. That must be it.

Sawyer raised up her laser gun just as Danse rounded the corner. As the spots finally cleared from her eyes, she heard him snarl out one word: "Synths!"

Her eyes widened and she stared at them. They didn't seem so tough, though each one was holding a red and white laser rifle. Their bodies were the bare minimum of supports. Though humanoid, it was obvious these were robotics. She wasn't sure why Danse despised them so much.

"Scanning," said one of the synths in a robotic voice. Its eyes glowed yellow in circles that were open at the bottom. "Match found." The synth addressed Sawyer directly then, and she stepped backwards, bumping into Danse. "We are to relay one Jillian Sawyer to the Institute." The synth moved towards her. "You will not be harmed if you comply."

Her gaze slid over this synth towards the ones in the back. One of the three behind the leader was carrying their backpacks! She elbowed Danse and nodded towards it. She felt him stiffen behind her. Turning back to the synth, she said, "I'm not going anywhere with you, you walking pile of scrap!"

Danse took that as his cue, and blasted the synth in its mechanical face. It reeled back and sputtered out something unintelligible. The other synths turned their weapons on Danse. Bright blue beams of light erupted from the ends of their rifles. Sawyer wasted no time blasting a hole through the lead synth's metal chest. It staggered back, then sank jerkily to the ground.

"Destruction of fellow synth verified," said one of the others, the one carrying the backpacks. There was another flash of blue light and the synth vanished.

Danse made short work of the remaining two, blasting them into oblivion. Pieces of metal and plastic littered the cracked tarmac.

"It's no use!" Sawyer spat, staring at the spot where the synth had been standing. "They got our backpacks. It must have had some kind of stealth capabilities."

Danse looked from her to the synths and back again. "The transmitter?" he asked.

Sawyer opened the dumpster and peered in before shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Paladin. I should have aimed for the one with the backpacks."

Danse's jaw clenched, and Sawyer figured he was in agreement with her, but he sighed heavily and turned to her again. "No," he said. "Your life is more important, and from the sound of it, the Institute wants you."

She swallowed and nodded slowly. "What does that mean?"

"It likely means they want to replace you," Danse said. "They're trying to infiltrate the Brotherhood. Which means they know we're a threat." He assessed the scattered remains again. "You're not to go anywhere without an escort," he said.

"Wait, what?"

"We can't risk you being replaced. For now, you'll remain with me at all times. You're to stay in my sight."

Sawyer opened her mouth to argue. After all, how was she supposed to have any modicum of privacy with Danse watching her 24/7?

Danse seemed to realize her frustration, but he stared her down. "This is for your safety, not to mention the well-being of the Brotherhood."

"Fine," she muttered. It wouldn't be much different than usual, she supposed. Downtime had been a rarity these past few weeks.

"Now, we need to find another way to power our radio," Danse said. "The Institute must have been after our salvage all along. Either that, or they want to stop us from communicating. Neither would surprise me." He turned away from her and scanned the alley, finding what he was looking for beneath a pile of rubbish. He clipped the laser rifle to his jumpsuit and walked over to the wreckage of his power armor. After rooting through it for a few moments, he straightened up in disgust. "There's nothing salvageable here," he said, dropping a bent piece back to the ground. "Let's get out of here."

Glumly, Sawyer followed Danse out of the alley.

"We'll head down this road. It should get us back quicker. Just watch where you step. Raiders are ubiquitous in this part of the city and they are known to use landmines."

Sawyer winced, recalling the mine she had stepped on while out with Rhys on one ill-fated patrol. If it hadn't had a warning beep, she never would have made it out alive. As it was, Rhys took several pieces of shrapnel to his arms and shoulder. "I'll keep an eye out," she said.

She followed Danse in a somber sort of silence as they walked past shells of buildings and mountains of rubble. They had failed their mission today, and just barely at that. The transmitter had been within reach. If only the synths hadn't gotten there first! Sawyer felt her brows knit together at the thought. How _had_ the synths known where she would be? It was almost as if… A little shiver ran down her spine and she turned to look behind her. It was like the Institute was watching her.

"Paladin," she said, and jogged a few feet to catch up with him. "The Institute. Do you think they're keeping tabs on us? I mean, how else could they know where we were and that the transmitter was there?"

Danse nodded without looking at her, his gaze flashing between the alleys and side streets as they walked. "I wouldn't put it past them," he said. "We know they have technology that far surpasses our own. Their human-like synths are evidence of that."

"So we don't know where they are, what they're capable of, or how to stop them?"

"Correct," Danse said, and his nostrils flared, the only outward indication of his anger. "But I aim to change that. Once we send the data our team has collected to the Brotherhood, I am confident that we will find answers."

Sawyer thought for a moment. "You mentioned human-like synths," she said. "But the synths we fought today didn't seem very human at all. They just looked like robots."

"Synths are an abomination of technology," Danse said, his voice fierce. "The Institute found a way to combine technology and life. The synths you saw today were not that. Their human-like synths are indistinguishable from a real human. They wanted to take you today, most likely to replace you with one of their copies." He shook his head. "But it will never happen. Rest assured, the Brotherhood has got your back."

"But why do they replace people?" she persisted. "And why-"

A gunshot pierced the eerie silence of the city. Sawyer clapped a hand to her ear as something whizzed by it. She raised her pistol, aiming wildly in every direction, but she saw nothing.

In a single fluid motion, Danse had his rifle up and aimed. He moved towards her, shielding her body with his own until they were back to back. Sawyer jumped when he touched her. "Focus, soldier," Danse said.

Another shot came, the bullet plunging into the cracked asphalt at Danse's feet. This time, Sawyer saw where the shot came from. In unison, she and Danse fired their lasers at the edge of an alley several yards ahead. She heard a yelp and grinned, but the expression fell from her face as fast as it had arrived. From out of the alleys on either side of the street came a ragtag group of people. They fanned out in a semicircle around Sawyer and Danse, surrounding them. Sawyer quickly counted. There were seven of them in all.

One of them stepped forward. He was wearing a suit of power armor, but it was mismatched and falling apart by the looks of it. He sneered down at them. Sawyer noticed a thick gash running down his cheek that looked like it had been crudely stitched together. "You picked a bad time to get lost now, didn't ya?" he said. His voice was unnaturally loud in the empty city, and he had a thick Boston accent. "This is a toll road, and you're gonna have to pay up now."

Sawyer kept quiet. She would wait and see what Danse did before acting. She watched his fingers tighten on his laser rifle, and she knew he was wishing he still had his own suit of power armor.

However, before either of them could say anything, the man in power armor continued. "See, the thing is now, we don't want your caps. Isn't that right boys?" The other men all cried their assent and the hair on Sawyer's neck stood up. She didn't like the way they were leering at her, especially the leader. He was speaking to Danse, but looking at her. She pressed closer to Danse, keeping her grip firm on her laser pistol.

"We're not giving you anything," Danse said in his strong, steady voice.

"Yeah, that's what they all say," said the leader. "But I know different. See, the thing is, there are seven of us and only two of you." He raised the gun in his hands, a crudely-made pipe pistol that was painted black and red. "So you do what I tell you."

Danse spoke again, but his words were drowned out by the raider leader's blast of gunfire. Bullets thudded into the ground inches from Danse's feet. Sawyer gasped and leapt backwards, but Danse didn't so much as flinch.

The raider leader looked startled at Danse's non-reaction, but recovered soon enough. "Here's the thing. I'll let you walk so long as you leave us the girl."

Sawyer's blood went ice-cold. She stared up at Danse in horror. What if he actually entertained the idea of leaving her to the raiders? They were obviously outmatched, and she was just some nobody he had pulled off the street a few weeks ago. Her grip on the laser pistol tightened. She wouldn't go down without a fight.

But Danse's expression changed several times before her eyes. First shock, then anger, then it settled on pure disgust. Without a word, he raised his rifle and blasted the raider leader three times between the eyes. With a cacophonous crash, he fell to the pavement dead.

The other raiders leapt into a frenzied response. Bullets flew everywhere and the raiders were screaming vitriol. Sawyer dodged to the side and tried to find focus. She sent a few shots towards one raider, but he moved before she struck him. She took aim again and for the briefest of instances, time seemed to slow. She let off the next shot with certainty, and sure enough, it struck true. The raider howled and clutched his side, giving her time to make a killshot.

That was two raiders down. No, three. She glanced over at Danse, who had already brought down another. There was another blast of gunfire, an automatic pipe rifle from the sound of it, and blood sprayed from Danse's leg. He grunted and went down on one knee. The raider who had shot him cackled horribly and advanced upon him.

They weren't even paying attention to Sawyer. "Hey!" she cried, and dove in front of Danse, blasting her pistol erratically. She got lucky, and one of the bright red bolts hit the raider who was about to kill Danse.

From the ground, Danse was still shooting, each shot decisive. Another raider went down, and there were only two left. "Back off!" Sawyer screamed, aiming her pistol at the one who was closest.

"Fuck you, you little bitch!" spat the raider, pointing his pipe gun at her. Sawyer was faster. The raider dropped, a molten hole through his face.

"Wait, wait," said the last raider, dropping his gun, but it was too late. Danse finished him off with two quick shots to the head.

"Paladin!" Sawyer cried, hurrying over to his side. A rush of gratitude filled her when she looked at him, and she felt terrible for ever doubting him. "Are you alright?"

"Took some shots to my leg," he said, looking at his thigh where blood was dribbling down his black jumpsuit.

"You took a bullet for me," she said, and knelt down beside him, slipping off her backpack and pulling out a first aid kit. "Several."

With some difficulty, Danse took his tiny pocketknife from his jumpsuit and handed it to her. "Of course," he said, like it was nothing. "What those raiders wanted was despicable. I would never allow it to happen. You're Brotherhood now. That means we watch each other's backs."

Sawyer didn't know what to say. Never in her life had someone cared enough about her to defend her like Danse had. She busied herself with cutting through the thick jumpsuit fabric until the bullet holes were exposed. There were four of them in all. Taking out a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit, Sawyer gently eased them into the first of the wounds until she found the bullet, lodged deep in his flesh. To his credit, Danse barely shifted as she slowly pulled it out. Three of the four came out easily enough, but the last one proved difficult.

"Sorry," she said as she felt around in the wound with the tweezers. "This one's deep."

"It's fine," Danse replied. The corner of his mouth twitched, the only indication of pain on his stoic face. "Do what you have to do."

At last, she caught hold of the bullet and pulled it out, dropping it on the ground next to the other three. Sawyer reached into the first aid kit again and pulled out a few stimpaks. She pressed the needle of one into Danse's bloodstained skin and watched as the wounds began to close up. "Better?" she asked him.

Danse stood up and tested his weight on his leg. He nodded. "Thank you, Initiate. He looked between the raider bodies scattered before them. "Grab anything useful," he said, and strode over to the lead raider. "I'm taking this power armor frame. I have spare pieces back at the police station I can use to build up a new suit."

Wondering why Danse was so obsessed with power armor, Sawyer obeyed his command, searching through the corpses for ammo, stimpaks, and other useful things. She found a few fusion cells on one, and a bag of RadAway on another. There were plenty of chems and a good handful of caps. By the time she was through, Danse was standing in the empty power armor frame.

"The left leg is sticky," he said. "The whole suit needs work, but it feels good to be back in power armor. Let's get moving."

Sawyer nodded and took one more fleeting glance at the dead raiders. Good riddance. She followed Danse down the street, half-jogging to keep up with his enormous strides.


End file.
